Splash
by SapphireMind
Summary: Shipwreck spends Valentine's Day with someone he cares about.


General disclaimers: I don't own GI Joe, other people do, I'm not trying to challenge copyright, I'm just having fun and making no money.  
  
This is exercise #2 from bootcamp for me, a valentine's themed fic. Enjoy! :)  
  
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It was Valentine's Day and everyone on base was getting themselves ready for the festivities, including Hector Delgado, aka Shipwreck, the most rejected man in the military. He carefully smoothed his hair and beard, feeling almost naked without his white hat that was customarily perched on his head. Alpine elbowed him as Shipwreck admired himself in the mirror, "Got a hot date tonight, Shipwreck?"  
  
"What do you think? No way I'd be caught hanging around this dump on the most romantic night of the year. Only chicks around here are either off limits or stuck up." He smirked a little, as always covering his real feelings with a veneer of humor.  
  
"Scarlett's not stuck up. She's just uninterested in you!" Alpine laughed heartily and Shipwreck shared a chuckle with him, even though he wasn't in the mood, as Alpine exited.  
  
He looked himself over in the mirror one last time. He was fairly tall, well built with deep coffee colored hair that had a bit of body in it to make it curl if he didn't keep it too closely cropped; the same texture was in his neatly trimmed goatee and moustache as well. His eyes were a hazel color that went nicely with the rest of his coloring. Today he simply had a pair of black dress slacks and a long sleeved dress shirt to cover his tattoos. He kept the gloves on, he would be driving and needing them. 'Not too bad,' he thought to himself.  
  
He knew he was a running joke with the Joes with all the times he had hit on Scarlett and Cover Girl and their vociferous, if not sometimes violent, rejections. Hell, even Lady Jaye had come under his purview occasionally, much to Flint's dismay. He had to admit, the main reason he would hit on Lady Jaye was just to piss the Warrant Officer off. He was the class clown of the Joe team and usually wore the title with pride.  
  
Sometimes though, it was damn lonely always being expected to be lighthearted and never let anything bother you. He felt he served an important purpose on the team; with so many crazy hardasses, someone had to break the tension regularly, or they'd all kill each other. No one else had the ability, so it fell on his shoulders. So he joked and was poked fun at, but sometimes, like tonight, he felt like the loneliest guy in the world. Of course, he couldn't talk to anyone about it; the girls would only figure it was some kind of come on, the guys would figure it was a joke and he really didn't feel up to being mocked about it.  
  
He strolled out to the rec room, keeping the casual smile on his face, then his jaw dropping and letting out a catcall. "Hey there Scarlett, how about we ditch our dates for the evening and you and me make some music?" Even though he wasn't in the mood, he couldn't stop himself from living up to their expectations sometimes. It was like he went on autopilot.  
  
Scarlett rolled her eyes at him, "In your dreams, Seadog! Though I have to admit, you did clean up fairly nicely." She eyed him appraisingly, "What's her name so we can warn her?"  
  
"Yeah, sounds tempting, but no, she's not military. And thank you," he brushed non-existent lint from his shirt and pants, "I thought I looked good too. Who are you all dressed up to see?" Scarlett looked amazing with her hair in gentle curls, high-heeled shoes and a simple wraparound style dress in a blue that matched her eyes. "We rarely get the pleasure of seeing those legs out of uniform."  
  
She gave him a warning glare, "Watch it buddy. And it's none of your business, no one you'd know anyway," she huffed and Hector smirked at having gotten under her skin a little.  
  
"Well, tell him to take pictures to share with the class." Luckily, his reflexes were good so he was able to dodge the empty can she flung at him. Feeling like he had fulfilled his responsibilities in smart-ass remarks, he left the rec room and headed out to the garage where they kept their personal vehicles.  
  
His was a beat up old jeep that he had grudgingly put on the canvases to make it more suitable for winter weather up here in New York. He climbed in, zipping up the door and starting her up; although she looked old, she ran as smooth as silk. He listened to depressing love songs on his way to town, morbidly looking forward to his night plans.  
  
He pulled into the hotel, scanning the lot with a tinge of paranoia to make sure he wasn't going to run into any teammates on his night out, and then parked the car. He sauntered into the hotel to the front desk and checked in under the name, "Allen Bauer". A little cheesy as an assumed name, but it was obscure enough that no one should recognize it. Hell, even if they did, they would never think that he knew its origins and assume it to be a coincidence.  
  
After he received his keycard and put away the few things he brought with him up in his room, he headed downstairs for the appointment he had down in the lounge. He gave a slight nod to the bartender, taking a seat and motioning to the bar in front of him, "Bourbon, no ice and don't be stingy...And an extra glass." He slapped down a one hundred dollar bill onto the bar, and while the bartender was a bit puzzled, he poured Shipwreck a double and set an extra glass down beside the full one. "Thanks buddy. Don't go too far with that bourbon, I'm going to be needing a refill soon." To demonstrate, he quickly downed the amber colored liquid in front of him.  
  
"Valentine's day is a rough one, huh?" the bartender said casually as he refilled the glass.  
  
"You ain't kidding," Shipwreck sighed. The warmth that was spreading through his body was a poor substitute for the warmth of a woman's arms, and he missed one set of arms more than he wanted to say. 'Mara,' his mind returned to that name more often than not lately, despite his attempts to banish her. He downed some more bourbon; it was bad enough being alone on Valentine's Day, but pining for someone was worse. He couldn't admit it to anyone, because hell, who would believe that he was serious? Somehow the thought of his feelings for Mara becoming a public joke was something he just knew he couldn't tolerate.  
  
He motioned to the bartender to fill his glass again and to put a little into the empty one. Holding up his glass gently, he said quietly, "To Mara, until we meet again, you hold my heart." An uncomfortable cough sounded near him, and he swiveled around, hoping that somehow it was her. Disappointment and embarrassment coursed through him when he saw who it really was and he quickly turned around to nurse his drink again. "Go away."  
  
Scarlett seemed genuinely uncomfortable, it wasn't every day that she was reminded that clowns have souls and feelings. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize this was your date..." she trailed off, feeling a bit guilty for the ribbing she had given him earlier. Most of the team knew about Mara, but they didn't know just how deeply it affected the sailor.  
  
"Yeah yeah. Make fun. I see you did the same though," he turned around, trying to shift the attention off of himself for once, and he noted the distinct change in posture when he said that, quickly craning his neck around to see who she was with. He saw a familiar flash of blonde and rolled his eyes.  
  
She caught the look and spoke carefully, "Please. Let's just pretend none of this ever happened." She clearly meant more than just her keeping quiet about Mara and his lying about his Valentine's plans, her eyes going nervously over to the blonde and worrying about what would happen if people found out.  
  
He thought for a moment and stood up, clapping her on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion, downing the last of the bourbon set out. "Never happened Red, but take it from me. Don't let things slip away from you. You'll regret it." With that, he turned and walked back to his room to be alone and think of the biggest mistake of his life: falling for a mermaid. 


End file.
